The Returning
by Kato Molotov
Summary: Every detective eventually catches the case that makes or breaks them. Castle gets his turn when a familiar face from the past enlists his help. AU post "47 Seconds".
1. Prologue

**Title**: The Returning  
**Verse**: AU post "47 Seconds," but before "The Ridiculously Australian-Accented Alleged Limey."**  
**

* * *

**The Returning**_**  
Prologue**_

_Something's changed,_ she thinks. _We've lost something. _

Had the protest rally bombing rattled him that much? It wasn't like they hadn't seen worse in the way of bomb cases - _lived_ through worse, at that. He ran into a burning building after her apartment had blown, not knowing where or if there were more explosives. He pulled the wires from a bomb that would have turned half of lower Manhattan into a nuclear nightmare. He held it together at the bank when faced with armed psychopaths, sitting on enough C-4 to blow everyone sky-high.

Why now? They've solved the case. It's over. The city will heal, again, it always does.

Cases come, one on top of another, for the next three weeks. The team takes the load in stride and outwardly, nothing seems to be too different. She still calls him for the case, he still shows up. He still spots irregularities and pulls reasonably accurate profiles out of nowhere. They still work, they're still brilliant. But the spaces in between the victims and their killers, the cases and the details, the procedure and the hunt, are all but gone. The movie keeps playing but the background music has stopped and the absence is jarring.

He doesn't tease her. He keeps his hands to himself. He doesn't bring coffee any more; he doesn't even drink it himself. He plays Angry Birds with Ryan, he goes out for a drink with Espo, and they don't even look back to see if she wants to come. His hare-brained theories come out flat at first, then forced, and finally he gives up on them altogether. For heaven's sake, it gets so bad that Ryan – _second banana, _she smiles in spite of herself – starts filling in when the CIA-or-alien-shaped hole in their day grows too impossibly big to stand.

_Richard is still here_, she realizes. _It's Castle that's gone._

* * *

Their ordinary, jack-killed-bill-over-jill Monday afternoon got a jolt when Hurricane Sorenson blew in.

Beckett stood automatically, meeting Agent Sorenson halfway between her desk and the one shared by Espo, Ryan and increasingly by Castle.

"Will, nice to see you again," she said, and she thinks she means it. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

Sorenson shook her hand warmly, but briefly, and responded, "Bad business, I'm afraid, and I'm actually looking for your partner. Your new Captain," he paused for a second, clearly his moment of silence for Montgomery, "said he'd be somewhere around here."

Beckett took a moment to process it: _Here for Castle. Not here for me. Why would he need Castle and not…? Oh,_ the pieces snapped into place. _He's got a live one._

"Got a kidnapping?" she asked, while she scanned the room for her partner. She remembered Espo shouting something over his shoulder at her, and waving him off without looking up from her work. Castle must have gone too. Her watch and stomach say that it's well past lunch time. Maybe the three of them went out. Distracted for a second, she wondered if Castle was bringing her back something.

"'Fraid I don't know yet, Becks," Sorenson's gravelly voice brought her back. "Got a weird one though. We're short on manpower right now, lot of us got diverted out to that trafficking case down in Florida."

Beckett nodded. "Heard about that. What do you want Castle for?"

"Like I said, weird one, and word around town is that you guys are all about the weird ones. Couldn't get cleared take both of you away from your casework, but I was hoping I could borrow your pet writer -," he stopped himself and smirked, "Excuse me, borrow your _consultant._ Got a fancier title since we last met, color me impressed."

She opened her mouth to defend Castle on instinct, but Sorenson interrupted with a good-natured laugh, "Don't get your hackles up. He's helped your department solve more than enough cases, even I gotta give the guy props."

_Shockingly civil,_ she mused.

"Castle stepped out… lunch, maybe? I don't know. He went with Ryan and Esposito I think."

Ringing Esposito, she confirmed her suspicion that they'd stepped out to lunch. Espo, to his credit, barely teased her for not remembering that they'd told her as they were leaving. She didn't have the courage to ask if they were bringing her something. She turned back to Sorenson instead.

"So, can I steal your partner for a bit?"

"I'm not his handler," she bit, and it sounded bitter even to her own ears, "You'll have to ask him, they'll be back in 20." The agent nodded his assent and plopped himself casually in Castle's chair. He didn't notice her flash of irrational anger, the barely bitten-back impulse to tell him to get out of her partner's chair. She stamped it down, though, and mentally rewarded herself for her control. Before long she'd relaxed enough to catch up on old times.

* * *

The boys breezed back in 20 minutes later, as promised. She noted with some surprise that it was Ryan who laid a cellowrapped sandwich and a sleeve of chips on her desk.

"Didn't know what you'd order but I figured ham and cheese was a safe bet," he apologized pre-emptively, before acknowledging Sorenson. "We got a case from the suits?"

Sorenson stood and offered a hand to the younger detective, "Detective Ryan, nice to see you. I'm here to steal your third Musketeer away, actually."

"Who, Castle?" Ryan asked, "Why not us?"

"Missing persons case, actually, and my boss doesn't want to play jurisdiction friction with homicide cops. I'm taking what I can get here."

Castle chose that moment to pop up around Ryan's shoulder, a guarded but intrigued expression crossed his face. "I'm flattered that a Feeb thinks so highly of me. Do I get a choice in this, or am I going to be drugged and kidnapped again?"

Sorenson looked confused, but seemed to take comfort in it when Beckett laughed at her partner's clearly inside joke. "You guys really do get the weird cases, don't you?" He approached Castle and shook his hand genially. "Your choice, Mr. Castle, but we could really use your help."

Castle clapped his hands childishly, "Good!" he chirped. "I really like it when I don't get drugged and kidnapped!"

Sorenson rolled his eyes – _is that what I look like all the time? – _she wondered as the ex-boyfriend-FBI-Agent dragged her partner off to a quieter corner to fill him in on his new case.

They were gone a few minutes before she realized that Castle hadn't even said goodbye to her.

* * *

**A/N:** There 'ya go. Short intro, future chapters will be a bit longer. I planned on posting something a little… not this, for my first fic, but this one wouldn't shut up until I wrote it. None-the-less, I hope you enjoy my maiden voyage into fanfiction.

Fair warning, friends. I can be counted on, in all facets of life, to do one of two things really well: take a good thing and run it completely into the ground, or take a bad thing and run it completely into the ground. Here's hoping this is a rare aversion to both, but if not, maybe it'll be the former and we'll get some mileage out of it before the crash and burn.


	2. Chapter I

**.**

**The Returning**  
_**Chapter I**_

_Goddamnit, leave me alone!_

"Policework makes strange bedfellows, don't it?" Esposito said carefully. "You really okay with Castle running off with the fed, workin' a case without you?"

Beckett spun on Esposito as they reached the evidence locker. "Espo, what I'm definitely not okay with is you pushing this. Castle is a big boy. He can work with whoever he wants. Hell, maybe they'll give him a gun, an overcoat, and a walkie-talkie and all his childish dreams will come true."

The ex-Marine remained unperturbed by her outburst, but looked slightly embarrassed. _Good,_ she thought peevishly, _maybe he'll get off my back._

"Whatever you say, boss," he stated carefully. "But you know you can talk to me 'bout it. If you need to." Seeing his guarded look, as if he'd just poked a dragon and was waiting for the inevitable fireball, Beckett softened.

"Let's uh… let's just get our case wrapped. Leave the paperwork for tomorrow. It's been a long day and I think we all want to get home and get some rest before the next one drops."

* * *

Castle was back at their – her – desk when she and Espo returned from evidence. She couldn't help but be cheered. Maybe he hadn't taken the case after all.

Her hopes were dashed when she realized he was on the phone.

"Yeah, pumpkin," he said in the soothing tone he only used with his daughter, barring the occasional traumatized victim, "I'm going to be working odd hours – odder than usual, sweetie. I might not see you for a few days. Mother will be home and I'm leaving you in charge."

There was a pause and Beckett paused with him, not entirely sure why she didn't make her presence known and was continuing to listen.

_It's not as if I'm eavesdropping,_ she justified. _Ryan's right there and we're in the middle of a crowded precinct._

"I know, Alexis. But I'll be fine. We're not after anyone in particular right now and the feds just want some fresh eyes on… on a difficult case. No dark alleys or cars in the river this time, Dad's honor."

Castle laughed; Beckett winced. It was the same forced laugh he'd used the last few weeks with her. For someone who naturally laughed so easily, who made everyone else laugh so easily, it didn't go unnoticed to the detective that her partner wasn't doing much of either any more.

"Alright, alright. I'll see you in a bit, I've got to pick up a few things at home, but I'll probably be out all night."

Beckett made a tactical decision and decided to announce her presence before Castle turned around and caught her listening.

"Got an interesting one, Castle?" she said, her voice a bit higher and tighter than she'd have liked. He humored her with an indulgent smile that didn't meet his eyes.

"Interesting is one way to put it. Grad student at Princeton vanished off the face of the earth. Still sending emails to her family, but no phone or face to face contact, and the emails are being sent from the city."

Beckett's confusion must have shown on her face.

"Hate to say it, Castle, but people get up and leave their lives sometimes. Why is it Sorenson's case?"

"Well, that's where it gets weird. She left her apartment, her dog. No personal items packed, no lights turned off, looked like she planned on coming right back, but she hasn't been in direct contact with anyone in 3 days. Guy who reported her missing said she'd never leave her dog without food and water, and nobody has seen her. She didn't show up to teach her class today, no email contact with her students either. When she didn't contact her research team today, her colleagues all got worried."

"Her colleagues searched her apartment and reported her missing?" Beckett raised an eyebrow.

"No, actually, her boss did. Was worried Friday when she didn't show up for a meeting and finally went to check on her last night, that's when he heard the dog crying and called police."

Beckett furrowed her brows. "Still not getting why this is a matter for the FBI. People get up and leave. Doesn't make it a crime."

"No, but the death threats she'd been receiving for the last year make it worrying."

"Death threats?"

Castle sighed, "Yeah, pretty nasty ones too. Sorenson will have to clue you in to what you need to know, but suffice to say our missing woman's got an enemy in the city, hence the FBI catching the case rather than Jersey police, and no one seems to know why."

Sorenson chose that moment to reappear from Gates' office. "Hey, Becks. Castle fill you in?"

Castle offered Sorenson his chair and wandered off to talk to Ryan and Esposito; he seemed content to let Sorenson take over with informing her.

"Uh, well, kind of. I'm still not sure I understand what's going on."

"Neither do we, but there's reason to suspect something's off." Sorenson slid a file over to her, as Castle went over a similar looking one with the boys.

As she opened the file, she immediately spotted an 8'x10' photo of who she supposed was the victim. A pretty young woman with short black hair, pale skin and brown eyes stared up at her.

"Galina Diomedeva, 29. Grad student, epidemiology."

"Russian?" Beckett asked, slipping into detective mode and remembering several abduction cases involving the Russian mob.

Sorenson shook his head, "In name only, third generation Manhattan, normal family life, from the looks of it. No connections to anything as far as we can tell, which makes these," the agent shuffled the photo carelessly out of the way to reveal photocopies of several emails, "all the more disturbing."

Scanning the documents, she quickly saw why the FBI was keen to act on the case.

"Geez, a little overkill, don't you think? '_Disemboweled with a two-tined fork._' Charming. '_You'll be sorry when you have_… _in your—' _ oh, that's not a pleasant visual," she grimaced.

"Yeah, and that's just the free sample. There's a whole box of 'em back at the district office, our possible missing woman kept them all in a file at work, and the the rest are no better. Disgusting, in fact. Creative, but disgusting." Sorenson cringed slightly at some memory.

"Any motive?"

"That's the thing. We can't make heads or tails of it. Corporate threat, scorned mistress, former roommate out for revenge over a security deposit, your guess is as good as mine. No specifics at all are ever really mentioned. It's almost like whoever was writing these things only knew the target in a vague way, like what you'd get off a sparse Facebook profile or from attending a class or two with someone. We were hoping Castle could help with that. Our regular profiler's in Florida, but Castle's a decent substitute and his connections to the NYPD without the paperwork to go along with just sweeten the deal. I'm gonna take him back to the office here, have him go over the rest of the threats and the details of the vic's life, see if he can make any sense of this. Good with creative leaps, that one, and for all our guys can do, creative leaps aren't a strong suit with a lot of agents, even solid ones."

Sorenson takes a breath, "The press release goes out at 6PM. Media won't know about the letters or why we're treating this as if it's foul play, far as they know the woman is simply missing and we're looking to get in touch with her."

Beckett asked before she could stop herself, "And… you do suspect foul play?"

"Mm. Hard to tell. You said yourself, sometimes people just want to disappear. But until we know otherwise, yes, we treat it as if it's foul play and assume that she _didn't_ want to disappear." He looked as though the idea disturbed him.

"Listen, I know I can't bring you in officially, but I need people in the NYPD, and if you could keep your ears to the ground, that'd be great. Castle will keep you informed of any developments, as much as we're allowed."

Beckett picked at her sleeve a bit and frowned, still not liking the idea of Castle being whisked away by the feds, even if he was with someone like Sorenson. "Yeah, I'll keep an eye out, let you know if we see or hear anything." Sorenson nodded and turned around, where Castle seems to be having a similar discussion with the boys. Castle met her eyes for the first time that day as she looked over Sorenson's shoulder.

"Castle, can I talk to you for a moment?" she asked. He said nothing but followed her off to the break room, and it almost felt normal when he did, even though he stayed further than usual off her heels.

* * *

"'Sup, Beckett?" he said, when she closed the door behind them. He leaned casually against the counter, blocking her access to the coffee machine, whether intentional or not.

"Nice language, Castle," she grinned, trying to lighten the mood. He stared through her, not amused. "Anyway. I just wanted to know if… if you're okay."

"I can take care of myself," he said, maybe too carefully. "This case is low-risk anyway, not like I'm going to be rampaging around the city with a rogue cop or anything."

"I didn't mean the case, Castle, I know Sorenson's not going to get you in trouble. You've just… you've been different. Is everything okay?" _With us?_ She added internally.

Castle shifted himself fully upright. The look on his face, coupled with his full height, surprised her for some reason. Four years she'd worked beside him and never felt intimidated by him. Yet it crossed her mind for the first time as she stood in the break room with her partner, having a seemingly normal conversation that felt suspiciously like goodbye.

"Fine. You know, things change, it will take me a while to adjust. Interesting case and a change of scenery, just what the doctor ordered," he smiled carefully at her, "I'm not myself, you're right, but eventually I will be. Just need a breather, that's all."

She thought she'd be relieved, he told her what she wanted to hear, after all. It made sense on paper: Alexis was going off to college, maybe far away; they'd had a crazy year and maybe he was just tired. It should have reassured her. Instead, she just felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water on her head. She didn't even try to stop him when he slipped past her, sailed out of her life and out the door. He was painfully careful to avoid any touch where he'd once have jumped at the opportunity to 'accidentally' brush her shoulder or back.

"Later, Beckett," he dismissed her, "Keep Ryan and Espo in line!"


End file.
